The Poet Tree

I wish ye poets, yearning poets, budding poets, 'would be' even, words to say, with meaning of that 'heart felt' voice, that is thy muse...have chosen thee. For I, the God inside hath chose, made nest, and whispers...all these things, say I. Now, 'let bless'd thee' compose, for I am only one...yet, yearn'th he, how all the rest may flow, full well...of poetry.

By grace


Written by Bruce James Clyde, at Deming, New Mexico

Art: tree of life, by barb thomas